The Nervous Bride
by Cats070911
Summary: As her wedding draws closer, Barbara suffers a series of mishaps that makes her question her decision to marry Tommy. But first, 3 months before...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. This was written for someone who wanted a new story and is a little stressed. She may relate to some of the things Barbara goes through here, and I hope she enjoys it, but I think many of you may relate to events in this story as I have borrowed from many stories I know are true. Anything you recognise? Oh, and by the way, it starts off three months before the wedding...

* * *

 **THREE MONTHS BEFORE**

"I am arresting you for the murder of Michael… bloody hell!" Detective Sergeant Havers fell to the ground as David Smith head butted her. She reached up to feel blood trickling down her forehead and dripping onto her coat.

"Are you all right?" Her boss, the ever-suave Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley peered down at her, his face ashen and wrinkled with concern.

"Yes! Don't stand there gawking at me. Get after the bastard!"

"Winston has that under control. Here." Tommy extended his hand and helped her to her feet. Stars swam before her and narrowed into almost total darkness. "Barbara?! Here, sit down. No, lie down. You might have a concussion."

"Ta." Barbara gratefully leant against him as he lowered her onto the floor. He sat cross-legged and cradled her head in his lap. It was soft and warm, and when he gently stroked her head, she sighed. In any other circumstances, she would want this to happen. But not like this. Not with a splitting headache and the genuine possibility that she was about to throw up over his expensive cashmere suit. She rolled her head out as far as she could. "Oh God, I think I'm about to…"

"Ambulance! Now!"

Barbara felt Tommy move her into the recovery position. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, but her only thought was how could she ever face him again. "I'll pay… for your dry clean… ing…"

* * *

Barbara could hear voices but could not decide if they were talking to her, or about her. "She has a concussion, but no swelling or bleeding. She should be fine in a few days, but I will advise two weeks off work and no major decisions to be made for a month."

 _Concussion? I have concussion?_ Slowly the memory of Smith's shaven head colliding with the bridge of her nose came back. She reached for her head but something, no someone, had her hand. Must be the nurse.

"She's coming around. I'll leave you alone and come back in thirty minutes, but if she has any symptoms other than a headache, call me."

"Yes, Doctor."

 _Tommy? Why are you here?_ Barbara heard footsteps, but her hand was still trapped. She tried to free it.

"Hey, hello. How are you?"

A big, hairy hand moved a strand of hair off her face with such gentleness that she started to cry. _No, no don't cry._

A tissue mopped her tears. "It's me. Tommy. Tommy Lynley."

Her faint smile stopped spreading when her head began to cleave in two. "Ah!"

Tommy let go of her hand. She had frightened him off. She wanted to yell for him to come back but her only sound was a loud groan. Before she realised, Tommy was sitting beside her, his arm around her shoulder and his hand gently holding her head against his chest. He ran his fingers softly over the top of her head, soothing away all her pain.

"Oh, that's good."

"I'm glad. I was worried about you, Barbara."

 _Did I say that aloud?_ She froze.

"You're safe now," he continued, "that's all that matters."

Tommy leant down and nuzzled into her hair. It was comforting and vaguely familiar, and she could have sworn it felt like a kiss. She closed her eyes and slowly exhaled as she buried her face against him and smelled his warm, woody scent. "Mmm, that's nice," she said, no longer caring if he heard her.

"Yes, it is." His breath tickled as it moved through her hair. She put her arm over him and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Come on now, Mr Lynley. Time for you to go home."

"What time is it?"

"Five o'clock. Matron comes on morning rounds in half an hour, and if she finds you here, she'll have my guts for garters."

"But Barbara might wake, and I won't be here." Tommy tried his most charming smile.

"I'll tell her. You can come back at ten. I expect they'll discharge her then but only into the care of an adult."

Tommy frowned, unsure of her implication. "I can look after her."

"I'm sure you can." The nurse gave him a saucy grin. "Now get out of here before I have to give you an enema."

"A what?"

"I will if you don't move. I'm an expert at twisting the tube all the way up."

Although he knew it was a hollow threat, Tommy blanched at the thought. "I'll be back at ten." He leant down and kissed Barbara on her swollen forehead. "I love you, Barbara," he whispered so quietly he doubted that the best sonar man in the Royal Navy would have been able to hear it.

"Love you too, Tommy," Barbara mumbled back.

Tommy stood and grinned. It was unsolicited and genuine. Underneath all the barriers that she kept using against him, she felt the same way he did. Tommy almost skipped out of the hospital. He walked to his car humming a schmaltzy love song that he knew Barbara liked.

* * *

"No."

"Yes, Barbara."

"No."

Tommy clenched his fists and tried hard not to raise his voice. "They will only let you out if someone takes care of you."

"I am not going to impose on you, Sir."

"You are not imposing. You'd do the same for me."

Barbara crossed her arms. "That's different."

"How?"

"Just is."

"Right. Well, you can stay here then. Clearly, the knock has affected your judgement more than they think." Barbara went to say something then clamped her mouth shut. "Besides, who else would put up with you?"

"You don't have to. Just because you feel guilty for what happened."

"Me? Why should I feel guilty?"

"You shouldn't, but you do."

Barbara was right, he did feel guilty that she had been hurt. "Yes, but that's not why I am going to look after you."

"Why then?"

Tommy looked at the infuriating woman lying on the bed. She was quite sexy when she was angry. As she was often angry, usually at him, that could be quite good for their relationship. He felt his face blush as deliciously wicked thoughts and desires crossed his mind. "Because believe it or not, I like you. We are friends, and friends take care of each other."

"Okay." Now Barbara was blushing.

"Okay? You mean you are surrendering?"

"No. I am not surrendering. I am choosing to leave the hospital, and to do that I accept that someone needs to be with me for the next 72 hours."

"Week."

"Week?" Barbara gave him a withering look.

"To be safe, yes."

"One week." It was a strong statement of intent. Tommy knew she did not intend to stay one second longer.

"We are agreed. I'll just get a wheelchair."

"I'm not an invalid."

Tommy shrugged. "Hospital policy. Wheelchair or stay here."

"Hurry up."

He smiled at her and saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"I want you to feel at home here," Tommy said as they came back to the kitchen after a quick tour of his house.

"Thanks. And thanks for stopping by the flat to let me get my things."

"My offer to stay there with you was genuine."

"I know." Barbara felt a surge of affection for him. "But not practical. You have a spare room. I could only offer you my couch."

"I'd sleep on barbed wire if I had to."

Barbara could not look at him. "Good job you don't have to then. Am I allowed coffee?"

Tommy twisted his mouth in thought. "Technically no, but I have decaf."

"What's the point of that?"

"You'd feel as if you'd had a coffee."

"Bloody hell. Yes. Alright. Decaf sounds good, but you have to have one too."

He was about to protest then thought about it from her point of view. "Deal."

"Really?"

"You expected me to argue?"

"Frankly yes."

"I'm a man of surprises."

"Not too many please. I have a head injury and have trouble separating reality from fantasy."

"Sometimes, they are one and the same." Tommy made the coffees and handed her the mug. "Here or the lounge?"

"Here." With difficulty, she perched herself on the stool at the island bar.

"Don't fall."

"Stop fussing. Why are you grinning at me?"

"Climbing onto that stool, you reminded me of those You Tube videos."

Barbara raised her eyebrows and regretted it. It made her head hurt. "Which ones?" she asked as she took a sip of the incipit hot brown liquid that Tommy was trying to pass off as coffee.

"The panda ones where they roll over and fall off their play equipment." Barbara spat a fine mist of coffee over the white marble bench. Tommy laughed and handed her a sponge. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you laugh."

"I look like a panda?"

He nodded and smiled into his cup. "Mmm. Two black eyes and a cute round face."

Barbara rushed over to the wall oven and checked her reflection. Her face was swollen, and her eyes had dark rings around them. She did look like a panda. She turned back and gave him a wry smile. "Got any bamboo in the fridge?"

This time Tommy almost choked on his coffee. He put his cup on the bench and walked over to her and stood so close she could feel the warmth of his body. "When I saw his head crash into your face I felt sick. Then you collapsed, and I was scared." Tommy put his hands on her shoulders. "I don't ever want to feel that way again."

"Sir, I'm okay. I'm sorry it upset you."

Tommy's hands slipped around her, and he pulled her into his embrace. "It's not your fault. I… I should have protected you."

Barbara wondered how much of this was about him not being able to protect Helen. She had no words to express all the confusion and conflicting emotions she felt, so she put her arms around him, shut her eyes, nestled her face into his chest and hugged him back.

* * *

"Come on; you must be tired. Do you want to watch TV?" he asked after a few minutes. Tommy was afraid that if they stayed like that much longer, he would kiss her. It was only his breeding and willpower that had stopped him. It was not the right time to tell her how he felt. She was unwell and still dazed and needed his friendship. She would always think he had taken advantage of her.

"Is it rude to say no?"

"Of course not. Would you like to rest for a while?"

"No." Barbara paused. "Would you read to me?"

"Read to you? What do you want me to read?"

"Something you like. I just fancy curling up on your couch and listening to your voice. You can read the phone book if you like. I might drift off to sleep. Is that alright?"

Tommy's ears began to burn. She liked his voice. One day I hope you like me calling your name. He coughed and shook the thought from his head."The phone book? I think I can do better than that. And sleep will do you good."

They walked through to lounge room. Tommy selected a book and sat in his armchair. "They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did. But we were not in their ranks. The Jamaican ladies had never approved of my mother, 'because she pretty like pretty self' Christophine said. She was my father's second wife, far too young for him they thought, and, worse still, a Martinique girl. When I asked her why so few people came to see us, she told me that the road from Spanish Town to Coulibri Estate where we lived was very bad and that road repairing was now a thing of the past. (My father, visitors, horses, feeling safe in bed - all belonged to the past.)..."*

* * *

*Opening lines of Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys, 1966


	2. Chapter 2

"The water was clear…"

"Snork!"

Tommy looked up. "Pardon?"

"Snnnoooorrrkk!"

His smile threatened to become a chuckle. Barbara was slumped against the arm of his leather couch with her mouth gaping open and her head bumping against the backrest with every loud snore.

Tommy put his silver bookmark between the pages and laid the book carefully on the mahogany side table. He went over to Barbara and gently inserted a cushion under her head.

"Ra umph ger"

Tommy smiled then softly kissed her forehead. "You're welcome."

He went upstairs and found a spare blanket. When he returned, Barbara had tucked her legs up on the seat and had rolled over to cuddle the cushion. Tommy wished there was room to snuggle up next to her. He arranged the blanket around her then settled back in his chair to watch her sleep.

* * *

"Sir? Where am I?"

"You're safe, Barbara." Tommy was instantly awake. "You're in my lounge. You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you."

"Ta." She blinked at him in the dim light. "You were reading to me. I remember now. But you didn't have to sleep in your chair."

"I did. You might have woken and wondered where you were."

Barbara laughed which made Tommy laugh. "Yeah, I see that logic. I should go to bed so you can too."

"I don't mind. I like watching you sleep."

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. He knew she was searching for an answer to a question that went far deeper than ensuring she was not disoriented if she woke alone. "Why?"

He shrugged and gave her what he hoped was an innocent grin. "You make the most incredible noises."

The cushion flew across the room. It missed his head by inches and crashed into the table lamp. Instinctively, he reached out and grabbed the antique before it hit the ground.

"Oh! I'm soooo sorry. I was… well, I thought… I should go to bed." She stood and hurried from the room.

Tommy extricated his arm from the electrical cord and hastily put the lamp back on the table. "Wait on."

He caught up to her at the top of the stairs. "Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, thank you, Sir. You're an excellent host."

Tommy followed her into the spare bedroom. "I just… want to be sure you're alright."

She smiled and frowned. "I'm fine. Now go to bed, Sir."

Tommy had no way to stall any longer. He already felt lonely. He smiled as generously as he could. "Call me if you need anything. Anything at all."

"Goodnight, Sir."

"Goodnight, Barbara." He bowed then left, feeling her rolling eyes behind his back.

* * *

In the state between waking and sleeping there is an awareness of your surroundings that seems unreal, detached, indeterminate. Barbara stopped breathing and listened. Someone was in the room. This time the presence was good. A few minutes ago she had hidden from a menacing evil that was trying to harm her. An image of a witch doctor dancing in a voodoo trance flashed across her memory. Whoever was here now meant her no harm. "Tommy?"

Soft fingers traced a line down her cheek. "It's okay. I'm here. You were screaming in your sleep."

"Was I? Sorry. I was… being stalked by a… doesn't matter."

"The doctor said you might have nightmares. Do you have a headache?"

"Yeah. Right across here." She touched the area above her eyes where there was a egg-shaped lump.

Tommy hopped up and returned quickly with paracetamol, water and a warm, wet washer. "Here, Panda-bear, take these and then lie back with this over the bruising."

"Panda-bear?"

"At the moment it suits you."

"Stop reminding me."

"Sorry. Would you like me to stay for a while?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It was your fault anyway with that book. All those creole dancers."

To her surprise, Tommy lifted the covers and climbed in beside her. The cool silk of his pyjamas wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I should have picked something else. If it's any consolation that book haunts me too."

"None at all."

"Sorry."

"So you should be. It haunts you so you thought you'd frighten me with it too?"

"No! Not intentionally. I thought… maybe you can help me understand it."

"Me? Literature was not my strength at school. I had this horrible teacher with stringy hair, bad breath and a drug habit, so I skipped a lot of her classes. And I think she had incontinence problems."

Tommy hugged her closer. "Your blunt assessment of people never ceases to amaze me."

She frowned at him. "Why does the book haunt you?"

"Do you remember Jane Eyre?"

"Yeah, kinda. One of Jane Austen's books?"

"Not quite. It was Charlotte Bronte using the non-de-plume of Currer Bell."

"Yeah, because women writers were not taken seriously."

"So you did learn something. Yes, sadly that was true."

"Mostly still is, except maybe for J. K. Rowling, but even she had to use her initials so people would not dismiss her."

Tommy sighed. "Yes, unfortunately it still happens."

Barbara looked at him. He had something on his mind. "So what about Jane Eyre?"

"Jane was an orphan who was mistreated by her family and has a childhood full of torment and suffering. At an orphan school she was wrongfully accused and, along with the others, was subjected to deprivation and utter misery until the principal was sacked after many of the children die and a new school was built."

"I'm glad you didn't choose that one to read to me. It sounds very depressing. Actually, I think the whole 1800s were bleak. Look at Dickens's books."

"For many people, they were. His books are an accurate representation of the time, especially in London. Anyway, instead of becoming embittered, Jane beats the odds and becomes a teacher and then takes a role as governess at Thornfield Hall teaching a French girl."

"Good for her. Were her employers any kinder?"

"She didn't really meet them at first. The girl was a ward of Edward Rochester, a somewhat attractive but aloof and troubled man. Jane meets him one night when he falls from his horse. At first he thinks she is unattractive and annoying but he soon becomes fascinated with her straightforward manner. She is nothing like any other woman he has met. Slowly, they become friends."

Barbara was beginning to understand the connection. "Well, I can sympathise with her. Attractive rich men are notoriously difficult."

"Really? I didn't know that." Barbara groaned but Tommy seemed oblivious to her meaning. "Anyway, Edward Rochester had his own demons. As the younger son was sent by his father to Jamaica to marry a rich woman so that the estate could be left to the eldest son. At first he fell under the woman's spell and was besotted with her. He believed he loved her. But madness ran in her family and she became, let's say, erratic. He denies her her identity and changes her name to Bertha then takes her back to Thornfield where she is confined to the attic. He embarks on a series of unsuccessful and hollow affairs."

"What a charmer."

"It's complicated. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Rochester and Jane fall in love but he doesn't tell her why he can't take it further, and she hides her feelings. He can't bring himself to tell her about Bertha, possibly because he is ashamed."

Barbara looked at Tommy then looked away. "Ashamed of his marriage or his behaviour towards his wife?"

"Both. And ashamed of falling in love when he is committed to another."

"Why? You can't help who you love, no matter how hard you try not to love them."

"But it wasn't fair on Jane. She was principled. She would never have been his mistress, and although he had others, he never wanted her to be one. He wanted to love her properly, as she deserved."

"I see."

"Do you? Do you understand?"

"Yes. So how does this tie in with the book you were reading to me? It hasn't mentioned his name yet."

"Although it was published in 1966, Wide Sargasso Sea is an early example of what people now call fan fiction, where the characters and storylines of a novel are used by another author."

"Sort of like hip hop sampling."

"Sorry?"

"Sampling where one artist takes and reinterprets the work of someone else."

"Yes, I suppose it's a similar process."

"Right. So Wide Sargasso Sea is about Rochester's early life?"

"Theoretically, although it is not technically accurate. Jane Eyre was set in the 1820s but Wide Sargasso Sea is set after the 1830s emancipation acts, so can hardly be truly representative of Rochester's early life. All done for theatrical effect, of course, and because Rhys wanted to explore the theme of colonialism and its impact."

"Yeah, right, okay. Whose child was it?"

"The girl was allegedly Rochester's, although he refused to acknowledge that and believed his French lover had the child to another man. Nonetheless he took care of the girl."

"So let me get this straight, Edward passionately loves a mad woman, locks her away and chases skirt, may or may not have fathered a child, then meets his soulmate in Jane but can't marry her because he is already married."

"Essentially, yes."

"So they are star-crossed."

"No, Bertha burns the house down and commits suicide. Rochester goes blind and loses his hand in the fire trying to save her, and when Jane returns after visiting her dying uncle, she marries him and they live happily ever after. He even gets some sight back to see his first born son."

"Good old Jane, picking up the pieces."

"She did love him."

"I'm sure she did, but he knew that. He wouldn't have done anything about it if Bertha hadn't Killed herself though, would he? Why did he still love Bertha?"

"I don't know if he did, or whether he remembered their passion, or whether he was basically just a good man."

"Hmm, he still went back to her. I mean he went to save her."

"Yes. I don't know why. Perhaps because he made a vow."

Barbara nodded. "So… you decided to read it to me because you need to know if I think you are Edward."

Tommy blanched then looked at her. "In a way. I think I need to know if you are Jane."

Barbara sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Should we be having this conversation?"

"No, probably not. I'm sorry. I thought if we read the books, it might fall into place and you'd understand."

"Understand what exactly?"

Tommy sat up next to her. "That I'm in love with you."

They both looked straight ahead. Barbara pulled the duvet up around her chin. She was too afraid of what she might say to speak. She had understood his hints. It was sweet and in a way they were a bit like Rochester and Jane. A lot like them. That said, he had been free for months and yet waited until she had been knocked senseless before telling her. "Bloody hell!"

Tommy finally looked at her. "It's true. I'm sorry."

"Your timing is… bizarre."

"I know. I'm sorry, but the way I felt after you were injured… I can't just pretend any more. If you had… I needed to tell you. I understand it might be… confusing or…"

"Confronting?"

"Hopefully not totally unwelcome."

"I need time to process everything."

"I wasn't going to say anything and I'm sorry if I've upset you, but… I should go and let you sleep."

"I'm tired but… I don't want to be alone to think about all that."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know. Stay. Just… can we not talk about this any further tonight? Can you just be my friend?"

"Of course, Barbara. First and foremost we are friends." Tommy lay down and gently pulled her shoulder. Feeling numb, yet also as if she had found something she had lost years ago, she slid down into his arms.

* * *

The next morning Tommy woke to find Barbara was not in bed with him. He sat up quickly and checked his watch. It was after ten o'clock. Her bag was still in the corner but he had no way of knowing if she had simply dressed and left.

He raced into the corridor and down the stairs two at a time. She was not in the kitchen. His heart rate soared as he thought of all the worst possibilities. He flung open the door into the lounge. "Barbara?"

"Good morning," she said cheerfully as she looked up from a book.

"Oh, thank God. I…"

"What? Thought I'd run away after last night?"

"Yes. I behaved selfishly and boorishly. I'm sorry."

Barbara smiled at him. "That's okay, Eddie."

"Eddie?"

"Eddie Rochester." Barbara held up the book. "I've been reading Jane Eyre. Once you get used to the language, it's not bad."

He walked over and sat beside her on the sofa. "So you've decided I am Rochester?"

"No, not yet. One thing I did learn in school is that there are only really nine unique stories, both in books and life, and we are all living variations of them. The same thing with different settings, different characters, different time periods, but the same basic plot. So, yes, you probably are Rochester. Although it sounds like the name you give a vicious dog that you are pretending is a real dog. And Edward doesn't suit you."

Tommy arched his eyebrow. "But Eddie does?"

"Well if Tommy does, then so should Eddie."

She was toying with him, and he enjoyed the way it made him feel. "I see. Well, in that case Panda-bear, you may call me Eddie, although I would prefer Tommy."

"The doctor said I'm not to make any major decisions for a month remember."

"I don't think finally deciding to call me by name counts as major."

She looked at him very seriously. "On the contrary, it is the most major decision I can make."

"Then for the next month, call me Eddie."


	3. Chapter 3

ONE MONTH LATER

Barbara's pacing threatened to wear a groove in Tommy's bedroom carpet. Her shoes were killing her already and she grimaced as a blister began to form on her heel. She stopped at the window and looked out. Everything looked perfectly normal. There was no reason for her to feel as if the world was ending, but she did. In the next hour, Tommy would be taking her out to dinner and she knew he intended to resume their discussion about their relationship. Since the night she had woken screaming and he had come to her, they had not mentioned his confession. True to his word, he had given her a month. She had not needed it, not really, but she still was not sure what she would say.

She sat on the bed and picked up her stuffed panda. Tommy had bought it, and a box of expensive chocolates, as an apology the next afternoon. It stared back at her with a cheeky grin. "Shut up, you little black-eyed bamboo muncher."

The panda continued to grin at her as if to say, 'just tell him you love him.'

"Easy for you to say. There are so many things to consider." The panda continued to grin. "Alright. I love him. Is that what you want to hear?" The bear's eyes looked mournful and remonstrative. "I know. I know, you annoyingly cute black and white ball of fluff; I need to tell him. He knows though. He must. Otherwise he would have said something when I never moved out."

Barbara stood and walked to the window again. She had the stuffed toy in her arms. "And yes, I know he meant what he said. He's been incredibly patient waiting for me to make the first move. I did though didn't I? That second night when I knocked on his door and slipped into his bed. He should have kissed me then. I wouldn't have objected but he is far too honourable for that. He promised me a month and he was determined to give it to me."

Instead of making love to her as Barbara had expected, Tommy had simply taken her in his arms and held her until her trembling subsided. Worried she had misunderstood she had told him, "I… don't know why I'm here."

"Because this is where you belong." He had kissed her forehead and the world had seemed right. "Now get some sleep."

The next day Tommy moved Barbara's bag into his bedroom. Neither of them said anything, but they both knew if she had not wanted it, she was free to move back. She had stayed. Each night they undressed separately but shared his bed. For the first few days, every time she lay in his arms she expected him to act, but he made no attempt to do anything more than hold her. He had been the perfect gentleman, and it was slowly driving her mad.

Tonight, one way or the other, that would change. She sensed that their conversation over dinner was the key to beginning or ending whatever it was that they shared. Was it love? Yes, they loved each other. Were they in love? Barbara had no idea. She wanted to think that they were, but she had no experience to guide her. They both stank at relationships. The only one they could maintain was the one with each other. But that was turbulent and maybe if it became intimate, they would not be able to sustain whatever it was that kept them together. As she turned, her shoe rubbed painfully. She took it off, threw it across the room and swore.

* * *

Tommy was well prepared. Over the last month, he had thought through all her possible objections to his idea. He had everything covered, or at least he thought he had. With Barbara discussions could take unpredictable tangents.

He took a deep breath then knocked on the bedroom door. "Ready?"

"Yeah, come in. I'm just changing my shoes."

"You look very nice," he said genuinely.

"Ta." Barbara looked up and her mouth fell open. "You look… very handsome."

Tommy felt his ears heat up. Her look said more than handsome. She was looking at him with the same hunger that she had the day she had watched him shower in Cambridge. His decision to wear a new grey suit was paying off. It had been a while since he had worn his suits, but he knew they emphasised his physique and bearing perfectly. "Thank you. Our booking is for eight."

"People?"

Tommy put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her to him. "No, o'clock."

"Yeah, sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Nervous?"

"Yes."

"Don't be. It's only me."

"Yeah, of course." She sounded unconvinced. "Is that your MacBook?"

"Yes, I… thought it might come in handy." Barbara raised her eyebrows but before she could say anything, he had extended his arm. "Your carriage awaits."

* * *

Barbara approved of Tommy's choice of restaurant. She had fretted it might be posh and public. Instead he had booked a private booth in the back of an upmarket fish and chippery in Kensington. After an entree of a dozen oysters, they sat back waiting for their main course.

"Those oysters were lovely," she said.

"Yes, very fresh."

"Good choice coming here. It seems relaxed."

"Yes, they serve the fish wrapped in newspaper, just like you used to get at the beach."

"That's cute."

"Yes."

An awkward silence developed. Barbara felt the need to fill the space between them with noise. "Beautiful weather today."

"Yes. Lovely day. No rain this week, but it is London."

Barbara laughed nervously. "So anything could happen."

Tommy looked around the restaurant. "Yes, anything."

"Just get on with it."

"What?"

"Just give me your speech. This small talk is making me more anxious than if we just get straight to it."

Tommy pulled out his MacBook. "Right."

"You wrote a speech? I was joking."

"Yes. No. No, it's not a speech, it's… supporting arguments."

"For what?"

"Well I tried to think of every possible problem, issue, or objection you might raise and I developed a counter argument."

Barbara began to smile. "Seriously? How many do you have?"

Tommy checked his spreadsheet. "437."

"I'm not that argumentative."

He tilted his head and raised his nose ever so slightly. "I think history tells a different story."

She muttered a curse under her breath which made him laugh. "So what do you think I'm going to object to?"

"Barbara, I meant what I said, I love you. And I'm relatively certain those feelings are returned. So, I think we should get married."

"What? You haven't even kissed me yet."

"I'm hoping that will change in the immediate future."

"I thought… I thought you'd suggest that we date and that we start… having sex. I never dreamed you would suggest we marry. That's insane. I'd never fit into your world."

"Section B is devoted to that issue. I have 83 arguments as to why you would fit or how we can minimise your exposure. I want you to be beside me as my wife and countess, but I do understand it is asking a lot at first. So I have several ideas for agreeing on an appropriate level of exposure and depending on how comfortable you are, possibly extending that over time."

"You have 83 ideas."

"Not all ideas, that number included counter objections."

"Right. So when I say I would feel uncomfortable eating with your lot you'd say?"

"Eating? Yes, here. Five points. Firstly, your table manners are fine. I can teach you the finer points of extra cutlery easily. Secondly, we will only go to family functions, and occasions you feel comfortable with until you indicate you would like to accompany me to anything more public. Thirdly, you will have the support of the whole family, not just me, and we will all work hard to ensure you never feel embarrassed or out of place. Fourthly…"

"Stop. What about your mother?"

"Section G. I covered it by saying Mother can sometimes be unintentionally disrespectful of others, even within our lot, as you call us. However, she likes you and I know she wants me to be happy. She will welcome you to the family."

"Your relationship with your mother is already strained."

"Yes. Your point?"

"I don't want to make it worse."

"I didn't cover that one. Not now, but I will tell you the story behind our animosity and you'll understand. You can only bring us closer, not come between us."

"I can't cook."

As if on cue the waitress appeared. "One fish of the day and one Australian Barramundi."

"I'm the barramundi." Tommy smiled at her so sweetly that Barbara felt a pang of jealousy.

"More like a barracuda," Barbara quipped, making the waitress laugh. After the woman left, Barbara tried the fish. "This is good. We might have to eat out, a lot."

"Section A, domestic arrangements. I have several suggestions, mostly related to eating out, but also employing a chef and us both taking cooking lessons which could actually be fun."

Barbara shook her head. "You really do have answers for everything."

"I hope so. I also have my financial statements here so you can understand my net worth and that of the estate which is managed under trust and only partially mine. I don't want to hide anything from you and I want you to gave a say in our affairs."

"I don't want to know how much…" Barbara stared at the figure on the screen that Tommy pushed in front of her. "Bloody hell! That much?"

"Yes, which brings me to my second proposal. I want us to give up work."

"And move to Cornwall?"

"No. We could spend more time there, but I don't want either of us worrying about the other. That incident… well it might have finally brought us together, but we would be split up as partners once we marry, and I couldn't manage each day worrying where you were or if you were in danger."

"Neither could I."

"Good. So what other objections do you have?"

"I think it'd be easier for me to just read your list and see if you missed any."

Tommy smiled and passed her his computer. She browsed through his list. "Section D, Sex and Children."

"Yes?"

"Don't look so worried. I see you would like children, health permitting, but it is up to me and if we can't have any, it's not an issue."

"Yes. I think number 256 covers the heir issue. I don't mind if the title passes to Peter or his son."

"It's not that. Number 253. I have never had any sexually communicable diseases. Seriously?"

Tommy looked affronted and grabbed the computer. "It's true. See here. A scan of my doctor's certificate attesting to that and the negative test results."

"I wasn't implying you had something. I just don't believe you thought I would think that, or that I'd need proof. Is that why you haven't… made a move?"

"No. I've wanted to. Very much. In fact some nights I had to sleep in very difficult positions so that you would never notice how much I wanted to. It wasn't up to me. You never called me Tommy. I know you dropped Eddie after a few days."

"It seemed stupid."

"But you never said Tommy. So I waited. I gave you your month."

"Idiot."

He moved back and looked at her. "Why?"

"I was waiting for… I don't know. A sign. Something."

"Sex would have been easy, but I don't want an affair. I want to marry you and spend our lives together. You needed time to adjust to that."

"I still do. I never expected that."

"Didn't you? You moved into my room and never left. I think you knew where it was heading. Neither of us want to be apart."

"What if we find that… we're not compatible… sexually."

Tommy passed her back the computer. "Numbers 249 and 250."

Barbara read the long entries and blushed. "Yes, okay. I can't argue with that, it sounds… compatible. What's this one? Number 251 Contraception."

"As stated, the form of contraception, if any, is entirely your choice."

"I don't know about the Pill at my age."

"There are other methods. We can visit my doctor for advice and in the meantime, if we… become intimate, I can use condoms."

"Men don't like them."

"Barbara, reducing my pleasure slightly is nothing to protect you from risk."

"If you have no diseases…"

"I am fertile though."

Barbara blushed. "Good to know. I suppose you gave a medical certificate for it."

His ears turned red and he nodded. Barbara shut the computer. "I think you've made your point."

"So?"

"I love you, Tommy."

His face lit up. "So you're saying yes?"

"I think so, but let's give ourselves a week where either party can back out with no ill feelings."

"I won't back out."

"You might regret that."

Tommy leant over and kissed her. It was confident and reassuring, firm yet gentle and loving.

"Wow."

"Yes, still worried about compatibility?"

"No, now I'm worried if any pharmacies will still be open."

Tommy smiled. "No need. There are a couple of packets in my bedside drawer."

Barbara arched her eyebrows. "Oh? Old stock?"

He smiled wickedly. "No, I bought them when I bought your panda. I wanted to be ready if you made a move. Now hurry up and finish your fish."

Barbara took a large bite and without looking up spoke with her mouth half full. "I particularly liked the sound of Number 250."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** It seems from your comments that a few of you have been peeking ahead… did I leave my password somewhere? Or is my writing becoming that predictable?

Oh, and before I get pinged by someone for an unannounced sex scene - there are distinct sexual references in this chapter, but not explicit enough for me to change the rating.

* * *

ONE MONTH BEFORE THE WEDDING

"It's nothing. Tommy's just being over-cautious, Doctor."

The doctor looked over the rim of his thick glasses at her. "He's right, Ms Havers. If you've had a head injury then suddenly faint, it needs to be checked."

Barbara groaned. "That was two months ago. I'm fine now." She tried to get out of bed but was hit with a sudden rush of nausea. She groaned again and lay back against the pillow. "It's just a bug or something."

"Did you hit your head again?"

"No," Tommy assured him. "I was standing next to her and caught her. I put her in the recovery position, but she came around quickly. I put her to bed and called you."

"Any other symptoms?"

"She's been off her food for a few days, Dr Brown. That's very unusual."

The portly doctor removed the thermometer from her ear. "Your temperature is normal. I'll run some tests. Can we start with a urine sample?"

"Is it necessary? I just have a bug. I'll be okay in a few days. Tommy's a fusspot. Did he tell you we both had to resign because he didn't want me in danger?"

"His Lordship has always been very protective of his family," the doctor replied. Barbara nodded.

Tommy helped Barbara to the bathroom, but she shrugged him off. She knew he was worried, but she was angry that he had called his doctor over. "I'll be fine. You're overreacting," she hissed.

"Possibly, but I'm not taking any chances."

Barbara slammed the ensuite door. Until yesterday, she had felt well. She was sure it was just a bug. If Tommy was going to behave like this every time she felt slightly unwell, it was going to cost him a fortune in doctor's bills.

"Here," she said as she handed the warm sample pot to the doctor before Tommy steered her back to bed.

"Thank you. The colour is a little dark but it's not cloudy." He placed the bottle on the side table and removed some test sticks from his bag. Barbara folded her arms and stared ahead. This was becoming humiliating.

"No blood. No sugar. Ah, I think we have the reason."

"Anything serious?" Tommy asked as he gripped Barbara's hand and squeezed it a bit too hard.

Dr Brown looked at them. "It depends how you view it, M'Lord. Ms Havers, I believe you are pregnant."

"What? No!" The colour drained from Barbara's face.

"I take it this is unplanned?"

"We… we've only been together a month. We're engaged, but we've only been having sex for a month."

The doctor looked around anxiously as if trapped. "It only takes one time, Ms Havers."

Tommy sat on the bed and put his arms around her. "Barbara, it's wonderful news. We said we wanted children."

Barbara began to cry. Tears rolled down her face. "Yes."

Tommy wiped them away with his thumb. "You are happy aren't you?"

Barbara nodded. "Just shocked. It's only been three weeks. I never thought it'd happen so quickly. Not at our age."

"I told you I was fertile."

Barbara hit his arm. "Cocky bastard." She pulled him to her and kissed him.

"Thank you, Doctor. Is there anything we need to do tonight?" Tommy asked when Barbara let go of him.

The doctor laughed. "No, I'd say it's already done. Make an appointment in the next few days and we will do a full examination and refer you to an obstetrician. If you can bear the nausea, Ms Havers, then I'd prefer not to prescribe anything but we can discuss all your options at my office. In the meantime, there is no need to do anything differently other than avoid alcohol, soft cheese and shellfish."

"I'm fine. Thank you, Doctor. And I'm sorry I was rude. I thought Tommy was being over protective."

"Judging by his face, I think you should get used to that."

Barbara looked at Tommy and rolled her eyes. "I don't mind, now we know there is something worth protecting."

Tommy took her hand and kissed it. "I'll be back in a minute, Panda-bear. I'll show Dr Brown out."

Barbara sank back into the cushions trying to assess her feelings. She was happy and scared. Then it dawned on her. The child would arrive in eight months. Everyone would know it was conceived out of wedlock. She imagined the look on his mother's face. His family had been happy for them and had welcomed her, but now they would think the worst.

"You don't want it do you?"

Tommy was standing at the door looking at her. His voice was hard. She could not tell if it was anger or fear. She reached out her hand. "Yes, I do. Very much."

Tommy sat on the bed and engulfed her in his arms. "Then tell me what's wrong? We should be happy."

"I am. But your mother!"

"Mother? She'll be delighted."

"No, she won't. Not when I waddle down the aisle in May, six months pregnant."

Tommy laughed. "I'm rather looking forward to seeing that."

"No! People will think… you know what they'll say."

"That old Tommy still has it in him."

"No! That I trapped you and you're only marrying someone like me because of it."

Tommy lifted her chin and made her look at him. "Wait here."

"Where do think I'm going to go? The unmarried mothers' home?"

He smiled then left the room. Barbara sat on the edge of the bed. How could she be pregnant already? They had taken precautions at first. It was only after one night when they drank a bottle of champagne under the stars in his backyard they, well more Barbara she had to admit, had been particularly randy. Tommy had offered to run upstairs and fetch the condoms, but she had wanted him there and then and did not want to spoil the mood. He had asked if she was sure. At the time she was, very certain. Now she shook her head at her recklessness. Her cycle had never been that overly predictable since her shooting. What mathematically should have been safe was not guaranteed. Of course after that rather special night, neither of them had wanted to return to using condoms. She sighed. Their fate had been inevitable.

Barbara heard Tommy bounding up the stairs. He was grinning when he came through the door. He looked happy and that eased her mind. She was happy too, underneath her fears.

"Perfect."

"What?"

Tommy knelt before her. "I was going to say this on Friday night after the Met's farewell party for us, but now is more appropriate. When we had our conversation, I was so worried about you rejecting me that I didn't think about the main purpose of the night."

"I thought the purpose was to convince me that you were a good investment."

"A good investment?"

She smiled and stroked his cheek playfully. "It was like being at a horse sale. You had all your stud papers and medical records. I almost expected you to pull out a genealogical chart and explain how you're related to royalty."

"I am sorry it came across like that."

"Your 437 reasons were impressive though, especially number 250."

Tommy grinned at her. "Is reading that all it took to convince you?"

Barbara kissed him. "No, it was the practical application that swung it."

"Mmm, I noticed you rather liked 251 as well."

"All of it." She put her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.

Tommy broke away, panting. "Before we do that I have something to ask. The main point of the conversation was to convince you that I love you and ask you if you'd be willing to spend the rest of our lives together." Tommy pulled a small red velvet box from his pocket. "I had this ring made

Barbara from one of our Asherton antique emeralds. I know you had your heart set on a May wedding, but I don't want to wait, especially now. I want to share the next few months as man and wife. Will you make me the happiest man on Earth, and become my wife in a month?"

"A month?"

"We need 28 days to get a licence."

Barbara smiled then ruffled his hair. One lock fell over his eye. Everything about him was gorgeous. "Yes. Yes, I will."

Tommy embraced her and they fell backwards onto the bed. Even in that position, he managed to find her finger and slip on the ring. Barbara held it up to the light. "It's beautiful!"

"Just like you."

Barbara gave him a fierce kiss as she stuck her hands in the back pockets of his jeans and pressed against him, slowly rubbing across his crotch. "Is being really, really horny normal?"

He laughed and then kissed her neck. "For me or you?"

"Me."

He nibbled her earlobe. "Like that night in the backyard?"

"Fifty times worse."

He rolled her on top of him then pulled her shirt out of her jeans as she tore at his belt. "Then have your way with me. I'm all yours."

* * *

ONE WEEK BEFORE THE WEDDING

Barbara ran through the list of things to do and crossed off buying wine, writing place cards and finalising the flower selection.

"Are you sure your Mother is happy to stay with her friend?"

Tommy looked up from his newspaper. "Positive. She suggested it."

"And Judith has confirmed she's bringing her new bloke?"

"Yes. David somebody-or-other."

"You don't seem worried about any of this, Tommy."

He put his newspaper down and patted his lap. "I'm not. You have everything under control. Come here, Panda-bear."

She nestled into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. "Sorry. I just want it perfect for you."

"For me? Not for us?"

"I'd would have been happy to grab a couple of witnesses off the street."

"You don't mind do you? I ran off last time. This time I want to make a more definitive commitment in front of family and friends. I want to tell the world I love you."

"I love you, Tommy."

"I love you too. Want me to show you how much?" He kissed her neck, just below her ear.

"We have to collect the rings in an hour."

Tommy looked up at the clock. "At this time of the day it's about ten minutes drive, five to dress… that still gives us three quarters of an hour."

"Ohh, mmm." Barbara's hand snaked under his shirt in response to both of his sliding up her back under her jumper. When he undid her bra, she resigned herself to being late.

An hour later they were still making love on the couch. "We can't do it again," she murmured as Tommy moved her slowly into position for number 250. "The jeweller."

Tommy found his mobile and dialled. "Mr Jordan? Hi, it's Thomas Lynley… Yes, look something has come up and it's too hard for us to make it in to see you today. Can I change our appointment to the same time on Monday?… Excellent. Thank you. Have a good weekend. Good bye."

Barbara was biting his shoulder to stop laughing. "Something has come up and it's too hard for us to make it in? Really, Lord Asherton."

"I was telling the truth. It's extremely hard."

Barbara yelped with laughter as Tommy rolled them over and pressed his case. She sat up and straddled him. "I think I have a solution for that."

"I knew you would."

"I call it Number 561."

"561?" Tommy groaned in appreciation as she moved into position. "I think 561 might become a new favourite."


	5. Chapter 5

FIVE DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING

"Rings first, then can you drop me at the dressmaker?" Barbara spat her toothpaste into the sink.

"Of course," Tommy called from the bedroom.

"What time do you pick up your suit?"

"Two thirty."

"Then can you phone the caterers and check that they got my order to change the cake?"

"To chocolate mud?"

"Yes, are you sure you don't mind it not being fruitcake? They said as it's only one tier that it doesn't need the strength of fruitcake. Do you think everyone will think it's odd? Apparently half the cakes are non-traditional these days." Barbara heard Tommy laughing. "What's funny?"

"I never thought I'd hear you worry about where a cake is chocolate or fruit."

"I don't want your family and friends to think I'm a complete peasant. I am what I am, but I don't want them pitying you."

Tommy came into their ensuite and wrapped his arms around her. "No one thinks you're a peasant."

"Is there a hierarchy? Is a serf higher or lower than a peasant?"

"Definitely lower. More like an agricultural slave. Peasants had some freedoms and could even run businesses or own small plots of land but they were still bound to the lord and had to pay taxes to him and tithes to the church."

"Yes, thank you, Professor. It was a rhetorical question."

"I know, but it was a manifestation of your nerves. What's worrying you?"

"That it will be a mess on the day and I'll embarrass you."

"You could forget your dress and arrive stark naked and you still wouldn't embarrass me."

"Yeah great. So everyone could see that I've been sinful."

Tommy looked at her in the mirror. His eyes burned into hers. "WE have not been sinful. We created Bubby Panda in an act of love, and love is not sinful."

Barbara felt contrite. "Sorry."

"Besides, at seven weeks, no one can notice, not even me, and I look every day."

"Do you? That's sweet."

"I want to start interacting with my little panda as soon as I can."

"What do we have to call him, or her?"

"Anything we choose."

"Ebenezer?"

"Except that." Tommy gave her a playful slap on her rump. "Now hurry up or I will have to ring Mr Jordan again."

* * *

"They're beautiful!" Barbara stared at the matching gold rings. Each had a fine inlay of emeralds running around the centre of the band. She turned to Tommy. "Thank you."

"Lord Asherton's design is very striking. When he first suggested it, we were unsure, but I am very pleased with them."

"Should we try them on?" Tommy asked.

"Yes, of course."

Barbara slipped the ring onto his finger. It was a perfect fit and felt perfect, not weighed down by expectations and regret like his first one.

"Barbara, here. I can't wait to put this on your finger on Saturday." Her ears turned red and he could see she was choking back tears. So was he and he knew on Saturday, he probably would cry. He was glad because she would know how much it meant to him.

"It's too big!" Barbara's voice was half an octave above panic.

"Not really," Tommy said trying to avert a storm.

"Look! It spins!"

They both turned and looked at Mr Jordan. "Oh dear. We measured it perfectly. Show me, Ms Havers."

Tommy winced as Barbara yanked off the ring and slammed it on the glass counter. Jordan took his measuring spindle and allowed the ring to fall. "Yes, see it's a Q. I can't understand why it doesn't fit."

"I'm an O, not a Q. It's two sizes too big."

"Mr Jordan checked the paperwork. "Ah, yes. See it is an O, but it looks like a Q. My craftsman must have misread it."

"Can this be rectified?" Tommy asked as he took Barbara's hand, partly to comfort, but mainly to stop her punching the jeweller.

"Of course, we will remake one. When's your wedding?"

"Two thirty o'clock on Saturday afternoon," Barbara growled.

Jordan smiled but Tommy noticed the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. "We will have it ready to collect on Thursday afternoon after say four o'clock."

"And if it's not ready?"

Jordan stretched his neck inside his collar. "It will be. I promise."

"Thank you, Jordan." Tommy smiled tightly and steered his firecracker out the door before she could ignite.

"Right, let's go to the dressmaker shall we?"

* * *

Tommy carried his suit bag inside and up to the spare room where he hung his new dark grey woollen suit in the robe. He placed his new black leather shoes on the rack and put the dark socks and his new black trunks on the shelf next to his emerald green pocket handkerchief. He was ready for Saturday.

He wondered why Barbara had not come in to look. He glanced at his watch. It was after four o'clock and she should have been back from the dressmaker. He checked their bedroom then wandered downstairs to pour a drink and listen to some Wagner while he waited.

"Hello Panda-bear," he said when he walked into his study and found Barbara sitting at his desk looking at his computer. "You're very quiet. How did your final fitting go?"

Barbara looked up and he could see she was upset. "The sleeves were too long. They hung over my fingers. What is it with me today? Am I shrinking and no one's told me?"

Tommy gave her a reassuring smile then opened his arms. "Come here."

Barbara stood and almost fell against him. "I thought we had enough time, but have we rushed this?"

"No. Everything will be fixed on time. When will your dress be finished?"

"Friday morning."

"Right then, we have a day and a half to spare." Tommy glanced at the screen. "What were you looking at?"

"Your spreadsheet."

"Are you having doubts?"

"Not exactly, but what if we've rushed into this? We've only been together two months. What if it doesn't last? What if I only think I'll be a good mother and I'm not. What will happen if you come to hate me?"

Tommy held her tighter. "Hey, what's brought this on? We haven't rushed it. We've been together for a decade, one way or another, and survived pressures far beyond rings that are too big or sleeves that are too long. Nothing's changed other than us finally taking the last step. And you are terrific with children. Bubby Panda will have the best possible mother, and a father who loves him or her very much. And I could never hate you, no matter what."

"You say that now, but you can't tell. One third of couples divorce, another third live in misery or indifference. I don't think I could cope if that was us."

"So bailing out now fixes that? Barbara, you have to have faith in me, but more importantly, in yourself." He put his hand over her heart. "If deep in there you really believe this is wrong, then we'll call it off, but don't throw something wonderful away because you are scared of things that might never happen."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not telling me I'm being stupid."

"I'm nervous too, Barbara."

"About what?"

"Whether I'll be a good husband to you. Whether I will be a good father to this little one. Whether I'll forget myself and make love to my wife at the registry office."

Barbara looked up and grinned at him. "Now that would be an eventful ceremony."

"Too public. I prefer you all to myself." Tommy kissed her. "But if you need further convincing that this is right, we could read through the spreadsheet." He kissed her again.

"I stopped at 250."

"No, we need to go all the way to 561."

Barbara turned and cuddled Tommy. "You're a wicked man at times."

Tommy nuzzled into her neck. "Me? 561 was your contribution if I recall. But a very welcome one."

Barbara began to unzip his trousers. "We could try 562."

"Hmm, yes please. Whatever that is, I know I'll like it."

* * *

As they lay naked on the floor, Tommy traced the line of her shoulder with his fingertip. "562 definitely gets added to the spreadsheet."

"I used to imagine us doing that."

Tommy arched his eyebrow. "Did you? Dare I ask what other things you imagined Sergeant?"

"All in the fullness of time. Although with Bubby Panda here, we might have to make the most of the next few months."

"Yes, but we can be creative."

"You've already proved that." Barbara pulled him down and kissed him.

Afterwards, Tommy lay in Barbara's arms. "I was thinking, as neither of us are having a bucks or hens night, we should go out to dinner tomorrow night to celebrate our last nights of freedom."

"Hold our own party?"

"Exactly. Who better to spend it with than our best friends."

"You know, I would love a drink. Several, in fact."

Tommy frowned at her. "Bubby Panda wouldn't like that."

"I know. I said I would love a beer, not that I am going to have any. I can be the designated driver."

"We'll take a cab."

"Damn. It just occurred to me. I won't be able to drink at the wedding and everyone will know I'm pregnant."

"Then I won't drink either. Let them think we've joined a temperance society or something."

"Us? Yeah, sure. Why not tell them we're in training for the astronaut programme? That's about as credible."

Tommy laughed then kissed her. "Fake it. Hold a glass and put it to your lips. Look like your sipping it then put the glass somewhere and move on. No one will notice."

"You think?"

"Yes, but we'll have to tell people soon."

"Not until after the three month scan. No one. Not even your mother."

Tommy ran his hand softly down her face. "No one. I promise."

"I love you, Thomas Lynley. So where are hen-bucking?"

"Hen-bucking? That sounds…"

"Vulgar?"

"No, exhausting. I was thinking dinner at our old pub, then a cruise down the river."

"The river? Yeah, I guess."

Tommy kissed her head. "You sound doubtful, but it's romantic and something I've always wanted to do."

"You've never done it before?"

"No. Have you?"

"No. It's full of gawping tourists oohing and ahhing at the city. Same as The Eye. I've never been on that either."

"Guilty. It's never occurred to me to go."

"Then we should. That's our plan then. We hen-buck The Eye and the Thames."

Tommy rolled her on top of him. "London may never be the same again."


	6. Chapter 6

FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING

Barbara looked at their usual pub. It prompted so many memories of their relationship - conversations over pints, bickering with him, piecing together evidence, arguing its meaning, walking out on each other, making up, stealing his chips, watching him wrestle with his demons, acting out and being a complete bitch to him. "Maybe we should go to another pub?"

"No, it has to be here," he said, brooking no argument.

She sighed and walked through the door. She made her way to the back to a table while Tommy ordered their drinks.

"Hello, Barbara. Fancy meeting you here."

Barbara closed her eyes then opened them and turned around. "Hi, Stuart. Oh, Winston. What are you two doing here?"

"Just hanging around," Stuart said with faux innocence.

Barbara glared at him. "I might not be a detective any more, but I can still tell when someone's lying to me."

Winston punched her arm. "The DI organised it. We are hen-bucking with you, whatever the hell that is."

Stuart took a swig of his beer. "I told Lynley it sounded decidedly rude."

Tommy arrived with a beer and a coke. "Ah, you found each other. Good. Here you are my love, your coke." Tommy turned to the men. "Barbara lost a bet and has to go all night without drinking."

Stuart looked at her. "Why would you make a bet like that on a night like this?"

She took a sip of coke. "The rewards were potentially very high."

Stuart nudged Tommy in the ribs. "Been turning on the charm have you, Tiger?"

Tommy raised his brow. "Tiger?"

"It's a buck's night, so he'd be a deer rather than a tiger," Winton said.

Stuart shook his head. "That doesn't sound like something Barbara would give up drinking for. A tiger has more power, more drive, more…"

"Enough," Barbara interrupted. "No need to dissect our sex life."

They all laughed. "Seeing this is your hen's night and Lynley's buck's night, we thought you can't get away with anonymity."

"Stuart," Tommy warned.

"Easy stud. Nothing harmful. We're not going to tie you naked to Buckingham Palace fence or anything."

Winston pulled a large paper bag from under the table. "We had these done for you."

Barbara was handed a soft, red object. She opened it up. "A tee-shirt? Oh good… I can't wear this!"

Barbara held up the shirt. On the front was an angry looking chicken and the words 'Now I know who came first'. She turned it over and on the back in bold lettering was the word, HEN. "Stuart!"

Winston handed Tommy a royal blue tee-shirt. The front had a strutting rooster and on the back, BUCK. Barbara laughed at Tommy's face. It would be worth complete personal mortification to know he was suffering more. He still had some poncy edges that needed to be chipped away. "Classic!"

"If it makes you feel better, we have some too," Stuart said unveiling two yellow tee-shirts. He held them up. On the front was a chicken sitting on a deer with enormous antlers and prominent genitalia, and on the back, Tommy & Barbara's Hen-Buck. "At least we're not making you wear a fake tiara. I figured you'll be wearing enough real ones in future."

"Thank you. These are so thoughtful, aren't they, Tommy?"

"Unbelievably so." Barbara poked him in the ribs and his stern face gave way to raucous laughter."

Stuart raised his glass. "Cheers. Tonight is going to be fun."

The quartet had two drinks then, at Stuart's insistence, left the pub. As they wandered along several people stared at their shirts. Most people laughed but one older woman told them that they should have more sense at their age.

"Tommy here told me about the Thames cruise," Stuart said as he hailed a cab. "I booked tickets for us on one of the party boats. Tonight has a retro theme."

"I didn't mean a party boat, just a regular tourist one."

"They're no fun at all. Full of photo-taking tourists gawping about. You'll love this, I promise."

* * *

The boat was considerably larger than Tommy had envisioned and would easily hold a hundred people. The back deck was large and festooned with lines of coloured lights. Two enormous speakers had lights that cycled through the rainbow built-in behind the grill.

"This is…"

Barbara trod on his toe. "Wonderful. Thank you, Stuart."

Behind them two buses pulled up to the kerb. Tommy heard squeals of laughter. Before he could say anything the busses disgorged eighty young people dressed in bell bottom jeans, paisley body-shirts and mini skirts that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Another bus arrived with men dressed in silk pantsuits and holding feather boas.

"Well hello, big boy," one said as he slid past Tommy.

"Hi."

"You've made a friend already," Stuart said as he brought back three plastic cups of beer and one coke. "Are you sure you won't have a beer, Barbara?"

"A bet's a bet and I can't have my husband think I have no willpower before we're married."

"He already knows you can be stubborn."

"It's tenacity, and it's one of the many things I love about her," Tommy said putting his arm around her shoulder.

"Come on, plenty of time to get all luvvy duvvy on your honeymoon. Tonight we party!"

As if on cue, the speakers crackled to life. "I've been cheated by you since you know when…"*

"Abba!" A girl screamed next to Tommy's ear. "Made up my mind, it must come to an end."

The girl grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. Tommy stood still as the girl began gyrating around him. He looked pleadingly at Barbara who laughed and shrugged her shoulders. Stuart appeared next to him with a buxom blonde, and Barbara was being spoken to by a man whose hairy chest and stomach were protruding from the open v-line of his lime green pantsuit. Before Tommy could protest, they had joined him on the dance floor. The girl who had kidnapped him was gone and the concept of partners vanished in a sea of jumping, pressing, laughing bodies. "Mamma Mia, here I go again, my, my, how can I resist you?"

Tommy slowly manoeuvred his way past the dancers to Barbara. "Should we go?"

"Too late. Unless you want to swim," she shouted.

He looked out to see them drifting slowly downriver. Westminster Palace mocked him and he wondered what his peers would think if they saw him now. Barbara was singing and dancing and looked happy. He took a deep breath and began to follow her moves.

* * *

In the four hours it took the boat to motor down to Greenwich and return, Barbara had sung and bopped away to the sounds of Abba, Bay City Rollers, Gloria Gaynor, Donna Summer and a swag of Bee Gees hits. She had watched Tommy slowly lose his reserve. When he was hip-bumping two of the besequinned men and allowing one to wrap a feather boa around his neck, she knew he was at peace with the world. She wandered over and began dancing with him. He gave her such a tender, open smile that she grabbed him and kissed him, passionately. They ignored the catcalls, and made their way across the deck to the railing. Arm-in-arm they watched the Houses of Parliament come into view as they passed under Westminster Bridge. "I love you, Tommy."

He kissed her. "I love you too. This wasn't quite what I had in mind."

"It's been fun."

He nodded. "Yes, it has been actually. I have to confess, I've never danced disco before."

"Danced disco? You make it sound… you did well. Smooth moves there M'Lord. And I think Adrian wishes he was your hen."

"Sorry, Adrian, I'm spoken for."

"So he'd have been in with a chance if you weren't?"

"Of course. I'm a public school boy remember."

"I don't want Bubby Panda going to Eton." Barbara bit her lip. It was hardly the conversation to start on a party boat.

"Neither do I. Come on we dock soon. One last dance."

* * *

By the time they tumbled into the house it was nearly two in the morning. Barbara was painfully sober and Tommy had been sure to not have too many. They went straight to their room and began to undress.

"We have to keep these shirts," Barbara said.

"It certainly was a conversation starter. Do you know how many men and women offered to cure my problem or made lewd suggestions about my rooster?"

"I don't think they were talking about your rooster, Tommy. Your co…"

"Yes, thank you. I know exactly what they were talking about."

Barbara laughed and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you."

Tommy kissed. "You're welcome, but for what?"

"Going along with it. Having fun."

"Years ago, I would have been aghast, but you've taught me to appreciate life."

"Me too. I would never have allowed myself fun if you hadn't given me confidence in myself."

"We' good for each other. That's why this works and we don't need 437 reasons to believe it."

"I know. But right now, I'm thinking number 250 might be nice."

"I was thinking 561. Shall we draw straws?"

"What about we aim for both?"

* * *

Tommy snuggled Barbara against him. "Definitely one of your better ideas."

Barbara ran her finger over his chest. "Hmm, I thought so."

He put his hand over hers. "Steady. I need time to recover."

Barbara laughed. "I was being affectionate, not demanding. Did you see the look on Stuart's face when Adrian kissed him?"

"I'd have paid money to see that. Serves him right, taking us on that boat."

Barbara hit his arm. "You enjoyed it. Admit it."

"Yeah, I did."

"Were you serious about what I said?"

Tommy hugged her closer. "About loving you? Yes, very. About never having participated in disco dancing, yes, that's also true."

"About schooling."

"Yes. There are certain expectations that are unavoidable and that we'll have to work through, but we can compromise on a school between Eton and a comprehensive. There are plenty of very good day schools in London."

"Any co-ed? I don't think I want him going to an all boys school."

"What if it's a girl?"

"Then You will have her locked somewhere in a nunnery."

Tommy laughed. "Probably. Keep her away from boys like me."

"You turned out alright."

"I wouldn't have. Not if I hadn't had you by my side all these years. I'm just sorry it took me so long to see it."

"Yeah, you can be a bit thick."

"In other circumstances I would thank you for the compliment."

Tommy winced as she whacked him. His best defence was offence, so he kissed her.

* * *

THE DAY OF THE WEDDING

"Tommy's just left with Peter. Our cab is outside," Stuart said as he came into the bedroom. "Oh, wow, you'll knock him dead."

"I hope not. I want to live a long life with him. You don't think the sleeves look too long?"

"No."

"Good. Thanks again for doing this."

"My pleasure. Winston and I are happy to be your witnesses."

"Did Tommy look nice?"

"Handsome as ever, lucky basted. He could wear a sack cloth and look good."

Barbara glanced at the clock. "Time we went."

She allowed Stuart to escort her to the cab. She was grateful of his arm to lean on."

Stuart climbed in beside her and gave the address to the driver.

"Your wedding, love?"

"Yes."

"What time?"

"Two o'clock."

"Right, well I'll go the long way and make sure you arrive at two. That way you'll be about five minutes later for the ceremony."

"It's not a church. They might cancel us. Besides Tommy would think I'd chanced my mind. We gave to be on time."

The driver shrugged. "Okay love." He reached for his radio. "Despatch, this is C1256. Can you radio Bill in C5893 and tell him the bride wants to be on time. I don't want the groom to be late."

"Will do, Charlie. A bride on time? Well it had to happen one day."

The cab pulled out of the kerb. Barbara took a last look at the house. When she returned, she would be a married countess. "Wait!"


	7. Chapter 7

**2nd Author's note:** Hmm, I wondered why I had no comments on this chapter. It helps if you actually link it to your story and not just load it into the documents folder.

* * *

 **Author's note:** For my friend who reads here and is getting married in a few hours. Wishing you both a world of happiness ahead.

* * *

Tommy paced in front of the tall, double oak doors that led into the registry office wedding room. He stopped, looked at his watch, then continued to pace, his strides becoming longer with each turn.

"Sir, stop. I'm sure she'll be here any minute," Winston said, more in hope than knowledge.

Tommy glared at him. "She promised to be on time."

Winston nodded. "Technically, she still has one minute."

A terrible thought crossed Tommy's mind. "Maybe they've had an accident or Barbara's lost…" Tommy remembered in time that no one else knew about Bubby Panda. "…her nerve?"

"We'd have heard if they had. There will be a simple explanation. I'll ring Stuart and see where they are."

Despite having tamed his hair for the service, Tommy ran his fingers slowly through it from front to back as he listened to Winston and tried to piece together what was happening. "She's changed her mind, hasn't she?"

"Stuart said they were in the taxi, ready to leave, and she raced back inside."

"I told you! I've done something, or not done something, and now she's decided not to marry me."

"I saw you two together the other night. She wants to marry you. She…"

"Loves you. Very much."

Tommy turned and saw Barbara standing in the doorway. "Barbara! I was so worried."

"Sorry, I had to go back for something."

Unable to hold his emotions in check, he grabbed her and hugged her fiercely. He saw Winston's relief as he and Stuart stepped away to give them a moment together.

"You'll squash the flowers. Did you seriously think I'd changed my mind?"

"I wouldn't blame you."

"Yes, you would, but I'm here."

"I'm sorry I doubted you, but I was worried that…" For the first time, he looked at her properly. Her hair fell in soft waves onto bare shoulders. The low scalloped neckline of her ivory, mid-length dress set off the emerald pendant he had given her perfectly. The dress, with deep green soft pleats in the skirt, flattered her figure. "You look stunning."

She smiled. "That worries you?"

He shook his head. "No, quite the opposite. You know what I mean. I was afraid you'd woken up to me and realised I'm just an insecure, poncy earl who is hopeless in love but also hopelessly in love with you."

"Oh, you are not hopeless. Far from it Mr 250."

"There's more to a relationship than good sex."

"Yes, but we've always had the connection, haven't we? Let me relish the new bits while I can. We can still grow old together and sit in our rocking chairs and reminisce."

Tommy laughed. "We're not ready for rocking chairs just yet." He kissed her gently.

"Are we going to do this?"

Tommy nodded and took her hand. "Yes, we are."

* * *

The service went past in a blur. Even minutes afterwards as they stood in the small anteroom waiting for the registrar to process their paperwork, Barbara could not remember what had been said, just how she felt and how much love had been in Tommy's eyes when he had made his vows and slipped the ring onto her finger. She had no idea how she managed to say anything, but she had, and, blinking back tears, she had promised Tommy to always challenge him, ground him, and love him with her heart, her body and her soul.

His arm tightened around her waist as his mother approached. "Now the circus begins."

"Tommy, today's not the day to hold grudges."

"I suppose not, but…"

Barbara reached up and put a finger over his lip. "Play nice." She turned to his mother, now only a few feet away. "Hi, Lady Asherton. Did you enjoy the service?"

To her great surprise, Dorothy Lynley smothered her in a fierce embrace. "I was happy before, but seeing you two looking at each other…" Dorothy took a handkerchief from her sleek, black handbag, and delicately blew her nose. "I have always wanted that love for my son."

"Thank you, Mother." Tommy embraced Dorothy. Barbara smiled knowing that for the first time in years, the feelings were unguarded and genuine.

"Photos," Stuart called.

Dorothy's demeanour instantly sprang back to her organising, Lady Asherton persona. "Come on. You have to have a picture with Great Aunt Enid."

"Who's Great Aunt Enid?" Barbara whispered.

"Mother's aunt. She must be nearly a hundred. I thought she'd died years ago."

Barbara hit his arm. "Thomas Lynley, fancy not knowing if your aunt is alive or not."

"Wait until you meet her. It's hard to tell."

Barbara laughed despite her attempt to be the serious one. Since they had been together, and especially since he had known about Bubby Panda, Tommy had relaxed. It was as if he had finally found peace with himself and the world. "I love you."

Tommy paused then looking around, ushered her behind a pillar. "I love you too."

Barbara frowned. "I heard a but in there."

"No, no buts. I do love you. I just…"

Barbara pushed the errant lock of hair that hung over his eye back behind his ear. "What?"

"Why did you go back into the house? I… I thought maybe you had cold feet."

"No." She glanced around to make sure no one was looking then, ignoring his arched eyebrow, reached down into her bodice. "I went back for this." Barbara retrieved the small, well-worn photo that she had laminated years ago. "It's my brother, Terry. In a way, he's the reason we are together. If I hadn't been angry about his death, and my family, I might not have been as impossible for others to deal with and they would never have tried to make us quit by putting us together."

Tommy took the photo and smiled. "He looked like you."

"So I… wanted him to be part of the best day of my life."

"I'm glad you did. But it is only one of the best days. You'll probably think giving birth to Bubby Panda is the best day."

Barbara snatched back the picture. "Only a man could say that. I'll spend hours in agonising pain, and you think it'll be a great day."

"It will be when you hold your child, our child, part of you and me permanently united."

"We'll see."

Tommy wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead as he pulled her close. "You're going to be a wonderful mother, just like you were a loving sister and are an incredible, loving and supportive partner."

Barbara choked back tears as she hugged her husband. "Thank you."

Tommy kissed her, slowly and tenderly.

* * *

EIGHT MONTHS AFTER THE WEDDING

"Aaaaarrrrggghhh!" Barbara screamed then panted heavily.

Tommy put a cool towel on her forehead. "Nearly there, Panda Bear."

"Don't Panda Bear me and try to be all calm and… aaaarrrgghhh." She looked down at her bulging belly. "Just come out will you!"

Tommy smiled. "You heard your mother; you'd better learn to do as she says."

"It'll be the best day of your life you said! Well, you were wrong. This is… aaaaarrrrrggggghhhh… bloody hell!"

"Not long now, Barbara," the midwife said.

"Good."

Tommy took her hand and kissed it. "Remember that night? In the garden? We lay there and watched the stars and sipped on champagne."

"And look what it led to… aargh!"

"Exactly. We're about to meet our son. I hate watching you in pain, but little Bubby Panda was created in a moment of great love. This is only a momentary thing."

Despite her pain, Barbara smiled at him. "Save your smooth talk for after this is over, Tommy."

The midwife interrupted. "One more push. Ready, Barbara?"

"Yes. Aaaaaaaarrrrgggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Waaaaaahhhhhhhh!"

Tommy laughed as his son emerged and started to scream before his legs were even out. "Oh Barbara, he's wonderful, just like you!"

Tears streamed down both their faces as Tommy tried to kiss her.

"Is he alright?"

They both looked at the midwife who smiled at them. "He looks very healthy. Here, hold your son."

"Thank you." Tommy managed to cradle Barbara and the squawking baby. Young Terence instantly calmed when he nestled against his mother.

"He's beautiful. He's got your dark eyes." Barbara hugged her son and began to sob.

Tommy was alarmed. "Why are you crying?"

"What if we can't keep him safe? What if he gets sick, or has an accident? I don't want to lose him."

"Every parent has those fears, Barbara, just as everyone wants their children to grow up happy, healthy and well-adjusted and to have long successful and rich lives. There are no guarantees. We can only do our best. He'll resent us and blame us for something we do or don't do, especially when he's a teenager, but if on balance he grows up respecting us and with a good moral compass we'll have been successful. You'll be a terrific mother, and I want to be the best father and husband I can be. Besides, it's a bit late to send him back."

Barbara looked at the child sleeping in her arms. She looked up and gave Tommy a warm, tired smile. "Yes, there's no way that's going back up there." Tommy and the midwife both laughed. "So, are you going to tell me his name now? All this family tradition nonsense of the Earl naming the child at birth. I still prefer Alexander."

"Terence Alexander Lynley."

"Terence? Oh, Tommy are you sure? It's not a very posh name."

"I'm sure. And it was originally derived from Latin. Publius Terentius Afer was known as Terence by scholars. He was originally a Berber slave in the house of Terentius, a Roman Senator, around 160 BC but he went on to be a famous playwright."

"You're naming our son after a Roman playwright slave?"

"No, I'm naming him after your brother." Tommy noticed tears forming again in her eyes. "But he can be Alexander Thomas if Terence would upset you."

"No, I'd like Terence. I think it suits you, little man." She looked up at Tommy. "Have I told you I love you?"

He hugged his family closer. "Not today. You were too busy yelling at me." This time his kiss met his target.

* * *

NINE MONTHS LATER

Tommy and Barbara were lying on a picnic rug in their small backyard looking at the stars. Barbara poured another glass of champagne for them both. "Here's to our first night of freedom."

They clinked glasses. "Cheers, Barbara. And some extra sleep."

"I hope Terry is behaving for your mother."

"She managed the three of us. I'm sure she'll cope with one little boy for one night, and she can always call reception and have help sent up."

"Do you think she will spend more time in London now?"

"Yes. I saw her looking at properties online yesterday. I told her she had to be at least twenty minutes walk away from us."

Barbara sat up. "What an awful thing to say to your mother."

"I don't want her just popping over. If she faces a forty minute walk, she will ring first to ensure we are home."

"Tommy! She's your mother."

"Exactly. I want to spend time with my wife and son, not her. Not all the time. I don't think it's mean, just realistic. Besides, if we were out here, doing this…" Tommy pulled her back to him and kissed her. "You wouldn't want to be interrupted either."

"True." Barbara kissed him savagely. "But we could have more nights together if she does buy a house nearby."

"So you want me to run Terry over and say Barbara and I are feeling horny and want to make love in the backyard. Can you mind Terry please?" His hands gripped her hips firmly, and he pulled her closer.

"Are we?"

"What?"

"Horny and wanting to make love in our backyard." Her hand slid under his shirt, and her fingertips traced a line up to his chest.

"Yes."

Barbara kissed him, seductively using her tongue to begin number 561. Tommy responded by rolling her over. Her champagne glass almost tipped, but he rescued it and with one hand poured it slowly into her open mouth while his other hand began to undo her shirt. He dribbled the last few drops over her chin and onto her chest. He threw the glass on the lawn and started to syphon the champagne with his mouth.

"You know what happened last time," she said as she tugged at his belt.

Tommy moved lower, trailing a wet kiss over her stomach. "Would that be so bad?"

"Not if you don't mind being abused for a few hours."

Tommy looked up and laughed. "Now or in nine months?"

Barbara gave him a saucy grin. "Both. Oh… Yes!"


End file.
